


Can't Claim Innocence

by separatedrain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/separatedrain/pseuds/separatedrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blow jobs in truck stop bathrooms. Sorry, I can't really make it more glorified than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Claim Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> The first little bit of this was left to me by [Holly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/works) as an askbox drabble, and then instead of publishing it as-is, I kind of ran with it. Title is a line from the Tori Amos song "Leather". (Tumblr version [here](http://separatedrain.tumblr.com/post/65782560046/dean-finds-himself-hunting-with-cas-with-cas-and-his).)

Dean finds himself hunting with Cas. With Cas and his brand new leather jacket. 

Dean tries to keep his eyes on the road, to not notice how fucking _good_ Cas looks clad in leather, with his jeans that are tight in all the right places, and his combat boots. He tries, and he fails, and soon he finds himself making a pit stop to jerk off in a truck stop bathroom. Because while he's not ready to admit to Cas how he makes him feel, his boner certainly isn't listening to reason.

* * *

Castiel decides, after a minute or two, that it would probably be a smart idea to use the bathroom himself before they continue their drive. He enters and heads for the free stall, Dean apparently still occupying the other. Just as he’s about to close the door, a moan erupts from the bathroom next to his.

“Dean? Are you okay?” Castiel suspects talking to people inside locked bathrooms stalls might be the kind of human etiquette breach Dean would scold him for. But, well, Dean has been in there for a suspiciously long time, at this point, and coupled with the groaning… he might have a urinary tract infection or something, for all Castiel knows. It’s not like he would be able to instinctively sense that sort of thing, now.

There’s a muffled curse, a zipper being pulled — but, Castiel notices, no toilet actually being flushed — and then Dean emerges. “Yeah. Uh. Fine.”

The way Dean’s face is flushed could still match Castiel’s UTI theory, but his blown pupils tell a different story. Well, and any further doubts as to what Dean was doing are quelled by the erection that his jeans do a rather poor job of masking. Castiel may be a little naive about certain aspects of humanity, at times, but he’s not an idiot.

He hasn’t even made any comments — but then he supposes he did perhaps stare at Dean’s crotch a little too pointedly, as Dean starts stammering at him. “I, uh, just. You know. Um.” Dean takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself, laughs. “All that adrenaline from the hunt, you know? Sometimes, it just… happens.”

“Adrenaline represses sexual urges, actually,” Castiel offers helpfully. “No time for intercourse in the middle of a fight-or-flight situation.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks for the biology lesson.” Dean starts to make his way over to the sink, walking, it seems, with some level of discomfort.

Castiel shrugs. “Don’t hesitate to finish what you started, just on account of me,” he says, which causes Dean to flush an even deeper shade of pink, leaning on the edge of the sink with both hands.

Without turning back to face him, he mutters a half-sentence under his breath that sounds something like “It’s exactly on account of you that I…” Dean shakes his head and straightens up, and that’s when Castiel makes a fairly impulsive decision.

He closes the distance between them in just two strides, spins Dean around, and locks their lips together. His fingers slide up to tangle themselves in Dean’s hair. The kiss is a little rough, a little messy… and perfect in every way that matters. After a few long moments, he pulls away and opens his eyes again to find Dean staring right back into them, rings of green practically obliterated by black, at this stage.

“That… I… what,” is all Dean manages.

Castiel leans in, so close their lips are nearly brushing against each other again, but doesn’t resume the contact just yet. “Okay?” he breathes.

Dean swallows and regains some level of coherency. “Yes. Hell yes.”

Castiel kisses him again, this time just a little more gently, as Dean’s arms wrap around him, coming to a rest at the small of his back. He can still tastes the coffee from their previous stop on Dean’s tongue. Dean pulls him in impossibly closer, erection pressing against Castiel’s hip. Castiel reaches down and pulls down Dean’s zipper, freeing his cock. Precome has dampened his underwear.

Dean suddenly breaks the kiss, leaning back a little. “Cas. Wait.”

Castiel freezes. “Sorry— Did you not want me—”

“No, no, I do! I do. God knows I—I’ve wanted this for a long time, now. It’s just,” Dean motions towards the door. “Someone could walk in any second, you know?”

“Oh. Right.” Castiel turns, then, and heads for one of the bathroom stalls. It only takes a second for Dean to catch up to what’s happening, and then he follows him inside. Castiel reaches around him to lock the door before pressing Dean up against it. “For the record,” he murmurs against Dean’s neck, kissing it before continuing, “I highly doubt my Father concerns himself with your choice in sexual partners.”

“Shut up.”

Castiel does, as there are indeed far more interesting things he could be using his mouth for, right now. He hooks both thumbs into the waistband of Dean’s jeans, and sinks to his knees, taking the offending article of clothing down with him. The underwear follows. Castiel leans in and licks a stripe up the length of Dean’s cock, tasting the salty precome at the tip. He hears a dull thud above him; a short glance upwards informs him that it was Dean’s head, falling back against the bathroom stall door.

He settles in, steadying himself with a firm grip on Dean’s ass, and takes his cock into his mouth. Dean also steadies himself, in a way, grabbing onto the back of Castiel’s head as he bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing.

“Holy fuck, Cas,” Dean gasps, breathlessly. “Where did you… Fuck— not gonna last—”

True to his word, it doesn’t take much longer until Dean is spilling down his throat as Castiel swallows around him. He sits back after a moment, wiping away a final drop of come from the tip of Dean’s cock with his thumb.

“You know,” he starts as he stands up, his own erection now painfully hard in his pants. “I’m not sure it counts as a _holy_ fuck if I’m without my grace.”

Dean looks at him a little incredulously before reaching for his jeans zipper. “Yeah, well. Pretty sure I can make you have a religious experience right here.”


End file.
